Astro Lounge
They say the Astro Lounge is where Camp Hope’s night sky was stolen and stitched into velvet. Step past the guarded archway of the Solstice Casino’s upper floor and you leave the noise and chaos of the gaming halls behind. Inside, perpetual twilight reigns. The ceiling curves overhead in a deep indigo dome, constellations glittering in slow, hypnotic patterns. No two nights are ever quite the same; the sky above shifts to match the ancient pre-Fall star charts, its inaccuracies forgiven for their beauty.
Under the Astro Lounge’s painted heavens, fortunes are won, lives are lost, and the stars never tell which is which.
Black marble floors shimmer faintly under low, golden light, each table a miniature universe—silver-inlaid constellations mapped out beneath crystal glassware. The plush leather and silk seating wraps guests in half-circles, like planets drawn toward the luminous sun of the central bar. Behind it, rare liquors glow in crystal decanters, some with a faint bioluminescent swirl, as if nebulae had been poured into a bottle.
The air smells faintly of spiced citrus, a carefully curated scent masking the trace of ozone from hidden ventilation systems. Celestial jazz hums low beneath the murmur of conversations—some harmless, others carrying enough weight to tip the balance of Camp Hope’s underworld. Every surface is designed to soften voices and sharpen the allure of privacy.
The lounge is the personal pride of Levi Aislin Power, an Oligarch of the Solstice Syndicate. Built in 109 SE, it was never meant for the common gambler. It is a stage for Camp Hope’s most influential players—politicians seeking quiet deals, merchants negotiating shadow contracts, mercenaries discussing terms for jobs that will never be written down.
It is said that half the Syndicate’s most profitable arrangements begin here, over drinks mixed with almost ritual precision. The most notorious of these is Nebula’s Kiss, a swirling blue-and-purple cocktail whose effects are as intoxicating to the mind as they are to the body. In the Syndicate’s hands, it has loosened more tongues than any interrogation room.
The Astro Lounge isn’t just a room in the Solstice Casino—it’s where the Syndicate drinks with the stars and deals in shadows.
Security here wears a smile. Two plainclothes enforcers circulate the floor, their presence felt more than seen. The biometric scanner at the entrance turns away the uninvited, and should trouble arise, the magnetic lockdown can seal the lounge within seconds. The Astrolabe Chandelier—a brass-and-crystal marvel that rotates slowly above the floor—serves both as centerpiece and surveillance hub, every glimmering star in its orbit an unblinking eye.
For those who can afford it, the three “nebula suites” promise perfect seclusion. Soundproof walls, private bars, and the same shifting starfield above create the illusion that the room is adrift in the void. Deals made here are rarely spoken of again.
And yet, for all its shadows and secrets, the Astro Lounge holds an undeniable beauty. It is a place where time feels like a distant planet, and every drink, every glance, every whispered word is an alignment of fate.
Celestial Menu
Where the stars align on your plate and in your glass.
Entrées
Nebula Flame Filet – 68$
A tender, medium-rare cut of prime steak draped in a comet-tail swirl of herb butter, served with charred shishito peppers, golden baby potatoes, and a single slow-roasted cherry tomato. Presented on a constellation-inlaid plate for that extra taste of the cosmos. (The dish from the Syndicate’s own high table.)
Orion’s Belt Carpaccio – 54$
Paper-thin slices of marbled beef, drizzled with asteroid-aged truffle oil and topped with stardust salt crystals. Three pearls of smoked caviar complete the constellation.
Eclipse Sea Bass – 62$
Pan-seared sea bass with a black sesame crust, resting on a bed of moonlight cauliflower purée, with a drizzle of deep-space soy glaze.
Lunar Garden Risotto – 46$ (V)
Creamy risotto infused with lunar basil, topped with grilled wild mushrooms and drizzled with meteor-aged olive oil. A vegetarian star of the house.
Signature Cocktails
Nebula’s Kiss – 22$
A swirling galaxy in a glass—blue lotus liqueur, spiced citrus gin, and a whisper of Syndicate secrets. Known to loosen tongues and brighten eyes.
Solar Flare – 20$
A fiery mix of cinnamon rum, blood orange cordial, and chili tincture, served with a spark of edible gold leaf.
Black Hole Velvet – 18$
Midnight coffee liqueur, dark rum, and cream, folded into a drink so smooth it swallows the light.
Stellar Parallax – 24$ (Limited Availability)
Champagne kissed with lavender syrup and a drop of ultraviolet tincture—only 12 served per night, aligning with the Lounge’s projected star cycle.
Desserts
Comet Tail Soufflé – 26$
A light, airy soufflé dusted with powdered sugar stars, served with a comet’s trail of raspberry coulis.
Event Horizon Chocolate Sphere – 28$
A dark chocolate orb melts under a pour of spiced caramel, revealing a core of nebula mousse.
Zero-G Cheesecake – 24$
Vanilla cheesecake infused with cosmic berry compote, plated to appear as though it floats above the dish.
Exotics– For Those Who Dare
Wake-Serum — $1,200
A shimmering violet elixir in etched bone-glass vials. One sip dissolves the masks we wear, leaving only raw, unvarnished truth. Not served to the faint of heart.
Dreamtide — $1,200
A vial of luminous mist, inhaled to drift through corridors of lost memory. Some find prophecy. Others never wish to return.
Lumen Leeches — $100/hour per leech
Bioluminescent creatures that cling gently to the skin, drawing away the weight of your worries while weaving visions into your dreams.
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